Fade to Black Continued
by teddybear17
Summary: Scenes inspired by Deranged Black Kitten's "Fade to Black." Original Summary: Shawn didn't care what the doctor or anybody else said. He didn't have a condition. The diagnosis was wrong. He wasn't-


This fic is a collection of scenes inspired by "Fade to Black" by Deranged Black Kitten. Though this is set after where that story leaves off, it is not a direct continuation. You don't need to read that story to understand, but it might make more sense with context. (Though you should read the original story anyway, even though it's incomplete, cause I think it's pretty great!)

Credit to Deranged Black Kitten for the original premise and idea. This fic has been posted with her permission.

* * *

It had been six months. _It had only been six months._ Considering his track record it was one of his longer jobs. _The only one he wanted to keep doing longer_. Better to back down now, let everyone think he was only as serious about this as everything else. Let his Dad bask in the superior knowledge that his son could never follow through with anything. _Better to end on a high note rather than be caught in a lie._

For once in his life, Shawn was doing what everyone thought him incapable – he was thinking ahead. At this rate, in another six months, he would be unable to hide his deteriorating vision. He finally found his niche, but was getting booted out by his own failing body. _There was always something_.

Packing up the office was hard. Figuring out how to tell Gus was harder.

Or, more accurately, telling Gus the truth while convincing him not to tell anyone else the real reason why was harder. Convincing Gus not to go tattling to Henry was going to be hardest.

In the end, he decided to set his well-worn pamphlet (the one he got that day in Dr. Field's office) on Gus' desk in the packed up office and wait.

.

"Shawn! Why didn't you say anything!"

Shawn sighed in the face of Gus' anger. "Because I didn't want to admit that anything was actually wrong. To you. To Henry. To myself. I convinced myself that if I ignored it it wouldn't progress as fast as it has and I wouldn't have to deal with it for another 10 years, but…"

Shawn trailed off and looked up. Gus was vacillating between anger, shock, and sadness. He gave off the strong impression of a fish as he stood there opening and closing his mouth, but Shawn decided now was probably a bad time to point that out.

Finally he managed to form words, "How far…?"

"I have no peripheral vision and I'm basically blind in the dark. That night at the mall? I was late cause I couldn't see and had to ask strangers to lead me out of there."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shawn sighed, that was a good question. "I…I didn't want to tell you because then it was real and I'd have to deal with it and I didn't want to. But now…it's not safe anymore, Gus. I can't drive. I can't keep consulting on cases because I'm missing things. I can't lead you blindly into danger knowing that I can't see well enough to keep you safe. I…"

"Shawn, I—"

"And, dammit, I don't want to give up Psych. It was the first thing I though I could actually keep doing forever, but now… I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner Gus."

Gus sat heavily in his chair and looked around the packed up office, his bare desk, and then at Shawn. He took a deep breath. "What has your doctor said? Are you on a treatment plan?"

Shawn barked a laugh, "Gus, there isn't any treatment. Besides wearing sunglasses to try and protect what I have left – not that that's helped much. It's progressing faster than he expected. I've been taking classes at the Braille Institute."

"Oh." He paused, "I guess I just figured you wouldn't be doing anything…"

"Come on Gus, don't be a squished jelly doughnut. I'm trying to be responsible."

"I can see that. It's just…unexpected, I guess."

"Your faith in me is overwhelming."

"Shut up, Shawn."

They sat in silence while Gus picked up the pamphlet he had dropped on the floor and started flipping through it.

"You should tell your Dad."

Shawn scoffed.

"Seriously, he's going to notice. This will keep him off your case for closing down the office too…"

"No. For once, I'm going to use his poor opinion of me to my advantage. I'll prove him right about not being able to cut it long term, and he won't look beyond it. Keeps him off my case, and gets us out of this before we get charged with a felony."

"Look Shawn, not that I have anything against _not_ getting arrested, he's going to notice."

"Not soon anyway." Shawn pulled out his Blindness Bucket ListTM and set it down on his desk. "How do you feel about a road trip?"

.

Before the end of the week they were gone. The office was cleared out, their logo scratched from the window, and their security deposit returned, surprisingly enough.

After months of thought, Shawn sold his bike. He couldn't ride it, and it was meant for the road. It was cruel to leave it parked collecting dust. He and Gus used the money to buy a truck that would withstand a cross-country road trip. Number 6 on his 10-30 list was to pile the bed with blankets, pillows, and pineapples and go star gazing in the middle of the desert. Even if he couldn't see them.

On the day they left Shawn stood on the x taped to the floor and looked at the line of numbers in his apartment. He could see from the 8 to 31.

.

A week after they left, Karen called Henry into her office. He took great pleasure in delivering his 'I told you so's.

.

A month after they left Lassiter walked into a psychic-less station every morning with a smile on his face.

.

Two months after they left, Shawn received a voicemail from Chief Vick asking him to consult on a case. He deleted it.

.

They were in Kansas, looking at the world's largest ball of twine when Gus' phone rang.

Shawn raised his eyebrow as Gus held the phone to his ear. Gus mouthed ' Chief.'

"It's for you," he said out loud.

Before Shawn could more than widen his eyes Gus shoved the phone into his hands. He sent his smirking friend a Look before holding the phone to his ear.

"Hey Chief, how's it going?"

"Could be better, Mr. Spencer. We would like your opinion on a case."

"Look, Chief, Psych is closed; I can't consult for you anymore. I'm sure my father can tell you all about how I can't stick to anything. Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm sure I've heard more of your father's opinions on the subject than I care to, Mr. Spencer, but right now a young woman's life is on the line and I will take all the help I can."

"We're not exactly local at the moment—"

"Then I'll fax you the file. Text me the number." With that she hung up. Shawn looked wide eyed at Gus who shrugged.

Shawn rubbed his forehead. Even with his dark glasses, the midday sun was starting to give him a migraine. "Fine. Let's get back to the motel and see if we can find a fax machine."

Gus smiled as he settled into the driver's seat of the truck. "You caved so easy."

"I did not!" Shawn harrumphed, crossing his arms. "She said someone's life was a stake."

"No, you caved."

.

.

When they were on Assateague Island, Shawn got a call from his father. When he didn't pick up, Gus got a call from his father.

Shawn mouthed "traitor" at him as he answered his phone. Gus merely smirked.

.

Three and a half months after they left, Shawn and Gus were back.

Shawn knew his vision had been deteriorating, but standing in is apartment staring at the numbers from 15 to 24 hit him like a kick in the gut.

.

The first time he saw his father since he got back he left his cane at home. After 30 years his father had decided to rearrange the furniture. He stubbed all of his toes and his legs were bruised for a month.

.

Shawn went back to the Braille Institute and actually took those classes on dealing with blindness.

.

Even though he left Psych behind, Shawn still renewed his private investigator's license when it was about to expire.

.

It was a good thing too because the Chief called him not two days later.

.

No matter how much he didn't want to, Shawn brought his cane when he went to the station the next day.

Lassiter looked up when he heard tapping and was greeted by the sight of Shawn Spencer grinning at him over his computer. Lassiter's face immediately fell into a scowl.

Shawn laughed, "Missed you too Lassie!"

"Shawn!" He turned at the call and was immediately wrapped in the arms of one Detective O'Hara. "You're back!"

Lassiter's eyes widened when Shawn brought his arms up to hug O'Hara back and revealed the cane in his right hand.

"Hey Jules!"

"What, are you impersonating the blind now too?" Lassiter cut in with a sneer.

"Ouch, you wound me," Shawn put his hand still holding the cane over his heart and pretended to swoon. This brought the cane to O'Hara's attention and her eyes widened.

"Shawn?"

"I know I know, red and white are so five minutes ago, but I think I can pull it off." He started pulling ridiculous poses.

Lassiter stalked around his desk and ripped the cane from his hand with a snarl.

"Ouch," Shawn rubbed his wrist and his expression went blank. "Lassiter, give that back."

The use of his actually name threw him for a moment, but he was not deterred. "Where's the poor sap you stole this from Spencer? These aren't toys."

"I'm not the one stealing from the visually impaired."

"Detective Lassiter!" the Chief called from her office.

"O'Hara, make sure this gets back to its rightful owner." He shoved the cane into her hands and strode off to the Chief's office.

But O'Hara wasn't looking at him, she was looking at Shawn—staring at his eyes.

"Jules?" Shawn held out his hand and Juliet returned the cane.

"Shawn? Did something…?"

Shawn sighed, he had a feeling he would be repeating this a lot. "I have a degenerative eye condition. It's progressing a lot faster than my doctor thought it would. I'm going blind, Jules."

Juliet was interrupted from formulating a response by the Chief calling her and Shawn into her office.

"Mr. Spencer, thank you for joining us—" she cut off once she looked up and saw the cane in his hand.

"Hey Chief, long time no see. I'm going blind, what's new with you?"

.

"Look, the spirits just haven't been as chatty lately. I can try to help, but I really can't promise anything."

Lassiter scoffed, but Karen Vick, who could still vividly recall babysitting an 8 year old Shawn Spencer when she was a rookie, knew exactly what he was saying. Her heart ached. And she felt the need to punch Henry Spencer in the nose.

.

As much as he wanted to, Shawn didn't re-open Psych. He consulted with the department once in a while and still phoned in the occasional tip though.

.

The second time he went to his Dad's house he brought the cane. And Gus.

.

Like Lassiter, Henry thought he was just messing around.

.

Until Gus corroborated his story. Then he was enraged.

.

The vision loss slowed down after that. Every couple of months he would notice he had lost another centimeter, but he was holding steady with a thirty degree field of vision for the time being.

He held a series of part time jobs, from a barista at a local smoothie shack that made the best pineapple smoothies in Santa Barbara to a waiter at one of those restaurants where you eat in the dark an the wait staff are all blind. He liked that one because it dramatically increased his ability to maneuver without his sight.

His dad eventually came around once he was done being mad and finally accepted the fact that nothing could have prevented it.

And he stopped rubbing Shawn's face in his 'failure' with Psych and gloating over him finally selling his bike when he knew why Shawn had done those things. Shawn figured that was as much of an apology he was ever going to get.


End file.
